Malou had no idea how they had managed it, but as Mr. Prewett pushed them toward the wall she reached for the top of it and managed to grab it. Her fingers clung to their precarious grip on the top of the wall, wet and sliding, her fingers bit into something but she ignored it, trying to push herself up despite the layers and layers of wet fabric clinging to her. Petticoats tangled around her legs as she tried to find purchase on the wall. All she managed was to cling to the wall, the waves still trying to drag her, the rain and wind lashing at her head and hands.